The dismal tolling of St. Scarcely had it come to a halt, when a stalwart man shouldered his way, in spite of their opposition, through the lines of soldiery to the cart, and offered his large horny hand to the prisoner. “But Sebastian! I need them!” He smiled, not a smile of comfort, but a smile of terrible menace. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street.
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