"Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. My mother really wants to meet you. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable.
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