The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. XII JACK SHEPPARD A Romance BY W.
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