“Have you much ability?” asked Ann Veronica. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict.
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