Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. “Perhaps for myself I do not mind, but this man is sure to find out some day, and he will not like having been deceived. Await me in the coach. I've a carriage within call shall convey you swiftly to town. If only we are not divided. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. ’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure.
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