“Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. “Every one. ‘Me, I have a name. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. " "More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony across his brow. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. " "Jack!" cried Thames, in indignant surprise.
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