Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. “Nothing. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. Take my word for it, your troubles are over. But David Courtlaw has been here. Carefully sustaining the child which, even in that terrible extremity, he had not the heart to abandon, he fell upon his knees, and, guiding himself with his right hand, crept slowly on. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone.
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