‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. " "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. "I love you like a son, and will follow you like a dog.
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