‘Here we go again. ‘You do not dare look in my clothes. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. “Not to-night,” she said. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. Our ideal had fallen.
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