The note-passer lagged behind with her. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. It could not be she who had done this. "She may yet be saved. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. There is some deep treachery hidden beneath his words. She felt she had to go on. The main idea now is of the future.
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