"I've proofs to the contrary," replied Jonathan. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. ” “Good God!” said Mr. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. He glanced down between the still narrow distance that lay between Melusine and himself, and discovered her hand there, a very small dagger within it. "Hold hard," cried he, addressing the waterman; "I'll give the gentleman a lift.
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