"Come—the kiss!" cried Austin, endeavouring to pass his arm familiarly round the Amazon's waist. “It is not possible,” he exclaimed. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. ‘Not from the nuns, no. ” “My message is urgent,” he said firmly.
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