She found an old drunk wandering the streets. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. "Hold!" interposed Thames, "he can do no more mischief. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. "So I think," replied Kneebone, again applying to the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry glance levelled at him by his companion. Help! help!" But her cries were unheeded. “Yes?” he said. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. I was to blame to carry the matter so far.
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