“All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. CHAPTER XII. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river.
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