Her mother…. Lead the lad to suppose that he'll be introduced to Lady Trafford. The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters. If the boy did not love the girl, why the devil had he dragged her into this marriage? Spurlock was a bit shaky bodily, but his brain was functioning clearly; and, it might be added, swiftly—as the brain always acts when confronted by a perplexing riddle. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine.
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