" "So I find, Captain," rejoined Quilt, submissively; "but you're too noble-hearted to take advantage of my situation. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. ” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. ” He looked at Lucy. Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us.
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