“Dear me, what a relief! If I had had any nerves that man would have trampled upon them long ago. “It is Michelle, John. ” “No? But it is very simple. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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