"And so, you really suspected me?" murmured Mrs. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. The rumor mills churned with the news that he harbored for her no ill will, but was simply too busy in his life to have a girlfriend that wasn’t “serious”. Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms.
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