A customer followed me in."

Putting the can within the fender, she gave the cup to Mrs. Float; and at the same time regaled her with an account of the discovery in the register. Mrs. Float, lifting the cup to her mouth with her crippled hands, listened and stared, and for once felt some surprise; whilst Blase Pellet, behind the counter, changing one volume for another, caught a word here and there.

"What's that you have been saying about Mr. Raynor?" he demanded, reappearing before Mrs. Trim, after despatching the customer. "I don't believe a word of it."

"Then you can disbelieve it," was the tart retort; for Mrs. Trim did not like cold water thrown upon her assertions. "Mr. Baackup himself maarried him; there's his reverence's own name writ to the wedding.

"Married him to Miss St. Clare?"

"To Miss Margaret St. Clare. That's the pretty one.

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