"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver. "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.
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