She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. It was now a quarter past twelve. I won’t tolerate any foreign tongue in this house, least of all that confounded French. org/license). “Our interest lies in heading them off. " "I know not how to act," exclaimed Jack, almost driven to desperation.
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