Where is he, Sir? Can I see him?" "No, that you can't," answered Mrs. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her.
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