It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. “I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica; “I think I am. I took the usual way home. Fortescue in the drawing-room, and actually shake hands with him in an entirely hopeless manner and hope everything would turn out for the best. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Stow it in the saddle, for I will take it with me.
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