There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. He scratched his upper lip reflectively.
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