We’re regarded as inflammable litter that mustn’t be left about. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. Then a hansom drove up, and his heart gave a great leap. "Well, I will see him," replied the knight, after a moment's pause; "he may be from the Earl of Mar.
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