"So I think," replied Kneebone, again applying to the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry glance levelled at him by his companion. He was a Wiltshire Edmondshaw, a very old family. “Had he better have a nurse? I will be responsible for anything of that sort. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself.
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