"At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. Wood, terrified by the wildness of her looks. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. "Now stand before me, Poll.
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