" "Afraid?" "Yes. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver. "I'd lay down my life for yours. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. Anyhow, there it is: YOU ARE NOT GOING THERE. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. “Oh, please. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition.
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