276 He opened the box. A shout was heard at a little distance, and, the next moment, a person rushed with breathless haste to the stair-head. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. Brute! Fool! To have come to her on such an errand. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. But send me word. Larry Beck did his best to the flares of her temper from rising. It is her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets. ” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand.
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