The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. “I say!” he said, without any movement. " "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. Collins, you can go now.
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