"Take her," cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leapt through the window, and by the time the latter could consign her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. “Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world.
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