" "Six weeks!" exclaimed Thames, in a melancholy tone. Presently, two carriages dashed down the hill, and drew up before it. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. “And to-night we are friends?” “We are friends,” said Ann Veronica, and drew her hand quickly away from him. Oh! my dear, dear son, be warned in time. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper.
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