"Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. White——” “No more,” Sydney Courtlaw begged, laughingly. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. Do you know that he is very much in love with you?” Anna smiled. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. It was for ever.
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