He looked distant, irritated. Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her.
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