“I know. I’m a desperate young woman. ” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. ” The official frowned. Their conversation became stilted. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. “But who could have lent you money?” “I pawned my pearl necklace.
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