I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. He resumed his listening. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over. He always followed by showering her with kisses, embracing her tightly as she squirmed and giggled. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation.
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