By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. A slender young man, wearing glasses, appeared from the shadow of the nearest van. Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since. "So I perceive," replied Jack.
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