’ ‘You’re going?’ asked his friend, and the note of relief was marked. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. . "That's it!" cried Wild when Trenchard concluded. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. " Quitting the night-cellar, the trio soon arrived at the riverside. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. .
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