" Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. Heard of your last escape. Anna said nothing. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. " "Aye, music hits them. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. ” “It is,” he replied, “the one humiliation of my life. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. It is useless to talk.
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