Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Accompanied by Sir Cecil, who still continued passionately enamoured of his sister, and to whom he represented that she had fallen a victim to the arts of a seducer, he set off, at fiery speed, for the metropolis. \"I told you he likes you!\" She whispered hotly into Lucy's ear. “I killed him. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism.
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