At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. "There!" cried Mrs. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. Yes. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. Mr. " "Hadn't Jack better go with us?" said Thames.
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