The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. If and when Ray was ever found, she would be long gone and they would be unable to explain what had happened to him. He hated horizons. “Your affectionate “FATHER. " "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. “What have I done, Miss Pellissier?” he pleaded. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen.
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