No gentleman was ever called Thames, and Darrell is a gentleman, unless the whole story of his being found in the river is a fabrication!" "My dear, you forget—" "No, Mr. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. You're rich. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident.
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