Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. Wood heard the cry. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. ’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. Anna sprang to her feet with a startled cry. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said.
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