“I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. With incredible labour, and by the aid of both spike and nail, he succeeded in getting the point of the bar beneath the fillet. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. It’s no good. Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. ” She covered her face with her hands. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech.
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