There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet. \" Cathy poured her a glass. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. " "Here is the sum you bargained for," rejoined Trenchard, flinging a pocket-book on the table; "count it. ’ ‘Do you tell me you think you can outwit Gerald? I wish I may see it.
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