“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager. At last—I told a story. “Yes, he made them all. “You have no right to hold me to a bargain which on your side was a lie.
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