" "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. . I do not wish to return to Paris. No gentleman was ever called Thames, and Darrell is a gentleman, unless the whole story of his being found in the river is a fabrication!" "My dear, you forget—" "No, Mr. Get you gone. But this plan (probably from its danger) was instantly abandoned; not, however, before her momentary hesitation had been taken advantage of by her pursuers, who, redoubling their efforts at this juncture, materially lessened the distance between them. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached. ‘Who is to be angry with you now?’ ‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly.
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