” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. No sooner did the vehicle turn the corner of this yard, than Quilt became aware, from the tumultuous sounds that reached his ears, as well as from the flashing of various lanterns at the door of the round-house, that some disturbance was going on; and, apprehensive of a rescue, if he drew up in the midst of the mob, he thought it prudent to come to a halt. ” Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Wood, furiously. But I’d have done it without, though it weren’t my place. 7. ‘Never fear, my love. He understood.
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