" "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement. " He then hurried Darrell down another short flight of steps, and entered a small chamber at the back of the house. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. “I’d run away with you in a heartbeat. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. ” Some one hidden from Ann Veronica appeared to be marshalling the assembly. "Evidently he could not destroy these children of his.
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