"Not in the least," returned Kneebone, slyly, "not in the least. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. " CHAPTER XVIII. ’ Martha looked up, belligerence in her tone. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees.
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