Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. "Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them.
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