. "Only the dog," replied the rough tones of a man. ‘Oh, the Frenchie. But it is not entirely without hope, for perhaps they may find some succour with Charvill. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. Attempts were made upon the door of the Lodge; but it was too strong to be forced.
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