‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. And there," he added, placing in his hands a heavy bag of money, and a pocketbook, "is a sum little short of fifteen thousand pounds.
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