Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. I saw him ride away with that other fellow. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ‘Come on. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. Youth finds it pleasant sometimes to be melancholy. Then he sat down and filled his pipe slowly and thoughtfully.
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