"I disbelieve the whole story you have told me. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. He jumped out of the car. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. " "No; I'm quite sure she said they're for you," replied Winifred; "but she does want to see father. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster.
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