"Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. But his own situation was too perilous to admit of his rendering any assistance to the ill-fated waterman. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of St. If Thames is murdered, you are his assassin. Mr. He knew she had been weeping.
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