“Let go!” said Ann Veronica, through her teeth, strenuously inflicting agony, and he cried out sharply and let go and receded a pace. The boy’s besotted. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. He spoke only when he saw the sing-song girl he wanted to buy. He brought home her first “meal”, a man who he 77 claimed was a highwayman who had raped several women and was destined for the hangman’s noose. Sooner or later she’s going to run away again, and I want Frith to follow her and find out where she’s living. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. I’ve never wanted to get away so much. ” “That is another French custom,” he remarked, “which is not so agreeable.
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