"And so, you really suspected me?" murmured Mrs. “This isn’t furtive,” said Ann Veronica. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. She cocked her head.
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