He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. Let’s go up to my room. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. She could no longer wait.
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