This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. “For me,” Manning went on, “this isn’t final. Now, you know where he is bound. I followed you home on the train. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. Gave me a purse, and told me to take both of ’em up to Harwich and put them on a packet for Holland. She had never had a real doll. What was their surprise to find it vacant, and the prisoner gone! Jonathan, could scarcely believe his eyes.
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