‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. She refrained. I ——” He stopped short. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. He grasped Lucilla’s elbow. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. The doctor missed the expression of terror and dismay that flitted across Spurlock's face.
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