They broke open the entrance into Jonathan's store-room—plundered it of everything valuable—ransacked every closet, drawer, and secret hiding-place, and stripped them of their contents. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. ‘Come along. “All right?” he asked. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it.
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