—BRENDON. ” “Yes,” said Mr. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. She ran from the knave into the women’s quarters. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. Wood; "that's the surest way!" "No! no! give it me!" vociferated Wood, snatching the pistol, and rushing to the door, against which he placed his back. It had been discussed in silence. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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