And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. But in that reservation it may be she went a little beyond the converse of his view. The infant was rescued from a watery-grave by an honest mechanic, who has since brought him up as his own son. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay.
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