"Oh, Norah, Norah!" she said to herself, sorrowfully. "After the letter
I wrote you--after the hard struggle I had to go away! Oh, Norah,
Norah!"
"How is Norah?" inquired the captain, with the utmost politeness.
She turned upon him with an angry brightness in her large gray eyes. "Is
this thing shown publicly?" she asked, stamping her foot on it. "Is the
mark on my neck described all over York?"
"Pray compose yourself," pleaded the persuasive Wragge. "At present I
have every reason to believe that you have just perused the only copy in
circulation. Allow me to pick it up."
Before he could touch the bill she snatched it from the pavement, tore
it into fragments, and threw them over the wall.
"Bravo!" cried the captain. "You remind me of your poor dear mother.
The family spirit, Miss Vanstone. We all inherit our hot blood from my
maternal grandfather."
"How did you come by it?" she asked, suddenly.
"My dear creature, I have just told you," remonstrated the captain. "We
all come by it from my maternal grandfather."
"How did you come by that handbill?" she repeated, passionately.
"I beg ten thousand pardons! My head was running on the family
spirit.
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