“What was that?” she asked sharply. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound.
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