” “No you’re not. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. “Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain. Prom a knot of idlers at a public-house, he learnt that Jonathan Wild had just ridden past, and that his setters were scouring the country in every direction. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister.
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