She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. At length, however, she threw herself off; and Jack carefully guiding the rope she landed in safety. ” She interrupted as Ann Veronica was about to speak again, with a bright contagious hopefulness.
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