”
“It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship
between you and me. Hist!’ he added, as he turned his head
and noticed Alderley’s glance. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent
agony. Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted the eastern
bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to ascend the
neighbouring hill. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even
heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether
her aunt was dead or alive. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing
a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 04-07-2024 17:04:36