\" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. ” Sir John breathed a long deep sigh. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. Listen to me, Winifred. Taking the wind was her business in life. He had not thought to find a lady so ready of humour and willing to give him a hearing. There are boats on the lake and shady depths and wildernesses of pine-wood. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. He knew it to be St.
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