Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. Have we not received Lady Bicknacre just this morning? Not to mention the Comtesse de St Erme. "These writer chaps are queer birds. Let me see my child, if he is really here?" "Behold him!" returned Trenchard, taking Thames (who had been a mute, but deeply-interested, witness of the scene) by the hand, and leading him towards her. The street was deserted, no pedestrian school-goers walked immediately in front or behind them.
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