"Water!" he gasped. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. "I was not aware it was in danger," rejoined Darrell. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. I told him the truth. It makes me desire life beyond measure. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently.
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