Good-bye. ‘But there is something still I do not understand. But Darrell averted his head. Father— dead. "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. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound.
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