‘Ah, grandpére. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. “Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. ’ She sighed. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators.
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