The Chinamen raised the limp body and carried it to the hall staircase, up which they mounted laboriously. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. He kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as if awaiting to be addressed. His friendship seemed a thing worth having. " "Is she alive?" repeated the widow. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs. The next moment, a heavy plunge told that the fugitive had been consigned to the waves. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds.
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