“Why don’t they wait?” he added. All sorts of battered tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. Rummage, my boy, do. An ancient smile lay on his lips. “Permit me to offer you the English paper which has just arrived, Sir John,” he said, holding out a Daily Telegraph. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. "Mr.
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