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"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. "I'm not worth it. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art.
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