" "Pshaw!" cried Thames. "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. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. .
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