He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. "Then it is not too late to save him. But it was only when that damned scoundrel nearly spitted you in the chapel—’ He broke off and, to her intense satisfaction she saw he was not as much in command of himself as he would have her believe. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. At the opening of the van doors and the emergence into the fresh air Ann Veronica’s doubt and depression gave place to the wildest exhilaration. Go to her, I say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I can't make you see.
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