" It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. Mobs were gathered together on the slightest possible pretext; and these tumultuous assemblages, while committing the most outrageous excesses, loudly proclaimed their hatred to the house of Hanover, and their determination to cut off the Protestant succession. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes.
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