CHAPTER XXIII. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. The stipendiary would have done it all very differently. She had but to choose. ‘But I don’t trust you an inch. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. But come, sir. Sir John followed me to London and married me. Or perhaps my father once.
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