In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. He kept that, but the rest. The doctor jumped to his feet. " "Execrable villain!" exclaimed Jack. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical.
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