’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. “You’re wanted for questioning, miss. She pushed the former and it opened. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. " "But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes.
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