” He retorted smartly, looking at her with mischief. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. CHAPTER XXXI. Le Mercier and Stowe of St.
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