Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. " "Winny, I must go!" said Thames, breaking from her. And Mr. Wood's famous 'prentice?" "What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. She’d have thrown this thing if you hadn’t stopped her. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe.
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