His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. He said simply that he wanted her to live at home. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. So the world is choked with waste and waiting daughters. But this plan (probably from its danger) was instantly abandoned; not, however, before her momentary hesitation had been taken advantage of by her pursuers, who, redoubling their efforts at this juncture, materially lessened the distance between them. Wood had retired to his own room, where he had just summoned Thames. She tore open the envelope and read it. It was dated from the House of Commons on the previous day. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. 1. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune.
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