She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. "I could," replied Thames. 144 I think he heard about the backpack and the spitballs finally. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. E. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without.
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