"He is," returned Quilt, significantly. ’ ‘Have no fear. The Times slipped from his fingers. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding.
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