CHAPTER XXIV. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before. The owner was at the door unhooking a few articles of wearing apparel which he had exposed outside for sale. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Whatever she does is minimized. She kept her eyes closed. “Better,” said Ann Veronica, with an unreal alacrity.
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