Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. No sooner did the vehicle turn the corner of this yard, than Quilt became aware, from the tumultuous sounds that reached his ears, as well as from the flashing of various lanterns at the door of the round-house, that some disturbance was going on; and, apprehensive of a rescue, if he drew up in the midst of the mob, he thought it prudent to come to a halt. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. ’ ‘I don’t know,’ confessed Gerald.
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