Ireton and Langley had returned from a second unsuccessful search; Marvel had come thither to bid good-night to Mrs. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. ” “Can’t we arrange something? Can’t we make a sort of treaty?” “He wouldn’t keep it. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly.
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