Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder. " "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams.
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