S. Ireton; for may I be hanged myself if I don't believe he'll be as good as his word. ” “Annabel knew where I lived,” Anna continued slowly. Something to tell you. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. We were only—les autres. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. For a moment, Kneebone had hesitated about giving the signal to Shotbolt, but, thinking a more favourable opportunity might occur, he determined not to hazard matters by undue precipitation.
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