The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. ‘Jacques?’ ‘No. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. He must not in any way call their attention to it. ” He was arrested for a moment by an indistinct picture of Veronica reading this last sentence. He did not even reply to her for several minutes. After that consolations fled. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror.
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