"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. “It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. “We will do Paris like the tourists, and thank God here comes dinner. “I am under police surveillance,” she said.
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