. . Once inside, he looked around, worried that his parents would suddenly cancel their trip and return home. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. Almost the best of all. “My dear Anna,” he answered. Nor did he content himself with declaring his guiltlessness of the crime imputed to him, but began in his turn to menace his captor and accuser, loading the latter with the bitterest upbraidings. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. The address was of course her destination, thousands of miles away, an infinitesimal spot in a terrifying space.
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