“We have to get in, I think,” said a nice little old lady in a bonnet to Ann Veronica, speaking with a voice that quavered a little. I am a little afraid. She could tell that he was furious in that instant. "By my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac.
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