“It was perhaps my fault. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. And it’s like the petals falling from a flower. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was speedily relieved by hearing another waterman busy himself in preparation for starting; and, shortly after, the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the river. ’ ‘What offer?’ she asked, suspicion rife in her voice. Leave me behind: I'm not afraid. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am.
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