Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. “I am not dependent upon any one. Well, if she survives the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair.
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