At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. ‘It is in truth you?’ ‘Of course it is I.
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