"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand.
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