At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. CHAPTER XXVI. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. . It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. You go to your room and ring for your maid. “You say you want a vote,” said Mr.
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