A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica to the darkness; “I’ll fight it. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. “Mr. ” “By all means,” Brendon answered. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat.
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