There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. "Now stand before me, Poll. E. I was perfectly satisfied with your appearance.
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