Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. "Yes," answered the girl. "The danger's past," whispered Bess. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. She knew now that he never would. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily.
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