She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. Spurlock bent his head to his knees. While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back to Marvel to tell him that all was ready, and to give him his last instructions. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. ‘That little kiss cost him his sanctuary, my girl, and don’t you forget it. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape.
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