CHAPTER XXVIII. Other girls gathered around like sheep. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. "Shir Rowland Trenchard's affair— eh?" "That's it," rejoined Jonathan; "I expect him here every minute. ” “Then, whoever he may be, he is not Meysey Hill,” Courtlaw said.
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