She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. This is not what I want. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. But I tell you in return, I shall take no pains to hide myself.
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