The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. She peered into the darkness. You will stop at once. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend.
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