‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. In spite of all this, he grew daily better and stronger, and his spirits revived. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. And this though he was evidently passionately in love with her. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him.
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