I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. The ruse succeeded almost beyond his expectation. As usual the substantive sister—Prudence—did all the talking for the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. “Yes, I remember,” she said. As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground.
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