’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ came from the lady in a furious tone, before the astonished Roding could respond. ” “Annabel, are you mad? To England! You are joking, of course. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. Not MY affair. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet.
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