She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. She felt like a dried-up old woman. Hearing the approach of the rider, Mr. "Well, I will see him," replied the knight, after a moment's pause; "he may be from the Earl of Mar. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. . ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say.
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