The cloth nearly touches the floor. Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. There was some one there. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up.
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