” She fumbled with her keys and opened the front door. “Neither Sydney nor I would think of such a thing. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. I want to make you feel that here is a place where the crowd does not clamor nor ill-winds blow. . He drew her closer. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. “You hear him?” he remarked, looking impressively around. "I want to know what you've done with the rest of the notes—with the gold— and the papers you took away from my room!" rejoined Wild.
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