By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest. This done, Edgeworth Bess, who watched her opportunity, slipped out of the Lodge. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 04:27:12
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