‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. " CHAPTER XXV. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. “I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg. The horror of those few minutes was still with her. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. Traversing Angel Court, and Green Arbour Court,—celebrated as one of Goldsmith's retreats,—he speedily reached Seacoal Lane, and pursuing the same course, which he and Thames had formerly taken, arrived at the yard at the back of Jonathan's habitation. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct.
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