“Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go.
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