Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank.
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