"Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman," said Wood, pouring out a glass of spirit, and presenting it to Terence, who smacked his lips as he disposed of it. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. "Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. ” He shook his head slowly, smiling mysteriously. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself.
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