The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. She meant to go, she meant to go, she meant to go. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said.
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