’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. ’ The mention of Alderley’s name, as Roding had confidently expected, caused the soldiers’ eyes to veer across to the young lady again, this time with a good deal less sympathy, and much more uncertainty. ’ She glared at Hilary. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly.
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