’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. The settlements which he has spoken of, too, are most munificent. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. " "Well, Sir, his name?" "Jonathan Wild. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs.
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