The calvacade was now put slowly in motion. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. " "The very face," exclaimed Gay, advancing to look at it;—"with all the escapes written in it. "Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. Her moods were many and always striking.
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