By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. And the woollen-draper departed. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. He would provide the necessities of life and protect her. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly.
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