He could not make good his hold. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “I’m just in time to say good-bye before I go, father. The end of the world seemed at hand. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. I’d rather not go,” she added. " "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. “Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle. But I'd a mind to try whether you really loved him as much as you pretended.
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