“I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. "Not my king's," returned Wood. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. The plank hung over his head. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. Wild will hang me. Manning as they talked.
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