They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. ” “She doesn’t care for him now?” “Not a bit. . ” “We’ll have, thank God! ten myriad days to tell each other things. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his.
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