"I dare say she has called to inquire about Jack. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. "Very well," said Rachel, with a toss of her pretty head, "very well. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent.
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