The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. " "Or Jack have escaped," remarked Winny. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Tomorrow, I shall carry you before Justice Walters, who'll take your information; and I've no doubt but Thames Darrell will be fully committed.
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