"Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. Have you anything to ask me?” Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. A bumper round, gentlemen. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. He would provide the necessities of life and protect her.
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