It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. They would arrest him for the French spy they had thought her at first. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. “Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. "You've got him?" demanded Ireton.
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