‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. Think better of it. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. "One word before we part, adorable girl— only one," he continued, detaining her. Ascertaining that it was Sheppard of whom this concourse was in pursuit, the two horsemen leapt the hedge, and were presently close upon him.
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