His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. If you don’t eat humble-pie now you may live to fare worse later. “She can’t. \"Sorry. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move.
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