Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. As Melusine approached the door, she saw Kimble speed up. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe.
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