Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. ‘Oh, the Frenchie. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. ToC As Jack opened the gate, and crossed the little garden, which exhibited in every part the neatness and attention of its owner, he almost trembled at the idea of further disturbing her peace of mind. Meantime, O'Higgins wended his way to the Victoria, mulling over this and that phase, all matters little and big that bore upon the chase.
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