“I don’t believe there is one. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door.
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