Ennison looked down on him in disgust. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. ” Sir John clutched at the table with both hands. The clock struck half-past ten. On Sunday, he was conveyed to the chapel, through which he had passed on the occasion of his great escape, and once more took his seat in the Condemned Pew. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame.
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