’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. What does she look like?’ ‘Black hair. No one seeing you together could doubt that she is your granddaughter. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit.
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