E. ” He was arrested for a moment by an indistinct picture of Veronica reading this last sentence. Ann Veronica halted a pace, and Miss Klegg came alongside. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. "How?" cried her brother, starting. "Your ladyship is far too unwell to travel," remarked the female attendant, assisting her to rise; "you'll never be able to reach Manchester. The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. They should never come into contact with politics or economics—or any of those things. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. . ’ The lashes fluttered demurely.
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