She alone of them all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to the beach. "It is", seplied Winifred; "have you brought any tidings of Thames Darrell!" "Troth have I!" replied Terence: "but, bless your angilic face, how did you contrive to guess that?" "Is he well?—is he safe?—is he coming back," cried the little girl, disregarding the question. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. In this hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him.
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