Panting with effort, she held her point menacingly at Gosse’s chest. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. " "My penance forbids it," said Trenchard, waving his hand. By-the-bye, do you want any money? Sir John’s ideas of pin money are not exactly princely, but I can manage what you want, I dare say. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. Let me keep you from that man’s clutches. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement.
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