" The two boys, then, emerged upon the landing, and were about to descend the stairs, when the voices of Mr. To disillusion her, forthwith. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. ‘Eh bien, Eugénie. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. ‘You can’t go to England.
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