Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. Ann Veronica woke rather later than usual, and lay awake for some minutes before she remembered a certain resolution she had taken in the small hours. Vorsack looked pale and pink. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. People ran out of their shops to join the pursuit; and, by the time Wild had got into Field-lane, he had a troop of fifty persons at his heels —all eager to assist in the capture. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. “Shot through the lungs,” he remarked.
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