"What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. “And aren’t there fees to pay at the Imperial College?” her aunt was saying—a disagreeable question. And if she is not a nun, nor a refugee, and yet is entirely English, I’m hanged if I know what she is. So here I am, king of all I survey, with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player. CHAPTER XXVI. What! mum still. "Anything that concerns Ruth is of interest to me.
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