Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road. “I mean to go to prison directly the session is over,” said Miss Klegg. Horrible doubts assailed her. And, by way of checking his housekeeper's familiarity, he pointed significantly to the table. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. She hated the manor. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. "What did you say to him?" inquired Jonathan, suspiciously.
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