” “Very well,” he said. It was eleven o'clock. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. It is not, my dear Veronica, that I think there is any harm in you; there is not. . “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. She infused menace into her voice. "Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question.
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