" "Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" "No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet. The Ragged Edge. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Captain Roding either did not know, or did not remember that she had it. “Thank you. He had brought her here to this place—where her freedom was curtailed even more than at the convent so that a cavalier was very much needed—and only on Monday came again. “No,” she answered. I was grateful. I know.
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