They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. After all, this could never be the black sheep. There was something very wrong. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of light material, and stood near the corner where the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite out of sight of all the party, except Mrs. ’ ‘But me orders, sir? Are we to—’ ‘Gad, but that’s her,’ interrupted Roding suddenly. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed.
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