They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. I just wanted a breath of air. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move.
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