Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. And, while the turnkey was busy with the keys, she whispered to the black, "Follow him, Caliban. If you choose to requite me by detaining me, you are at liberty to do so. "Keep a sharp look out, Bess. Pancras,” she directed, promptly. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity.
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