The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt. He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing. She could hear their footsteps upon the pavement. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. “I think that it is only an idea. .
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