" There was a pause. Heard voices. "What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly. " "Footsteps are approaching," cried Thames. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth.
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