Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. “I expect it is pretty well in shreds by now. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. " "It came from Lady Trafford's jewel-box. ” “Lady Ferringhall! Anna!” he exclaimed.
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