But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. "I can't say I do," replied Wood. “It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs.
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