” “I sent a telegram, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. She was in deadly earnest in everything she did. The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. . Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. She could not move. ’ The breathy laugh came, and Madame Valade abandoned her fan.
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