And the less “anything” happened the better. What was the fellow about? Was he being imposed upon? He watched as the man Valade turned back, spreading his hands in the French way. "Every honest man, Sir! He helps us to our own again. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. It’s no good hiding it any more. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. The thought made her exquisitely happy.
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