" "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. A moment afterwards, the street was illumined by a blaze of torchlight, and a tumultuous uproar, mixed with the clashing of weapons, and the braying of horns, announced the arrival of the first detachment of Minters. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. She danced with two others.
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