Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. "They shall not harm you, my love!" she exclaimed. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature. The men have never had so much work to do since they banded. By various twistings and turnings, during all which time his pursuers, who were greatly increased in numbers, kept him in view, he reached Gray's-Inn-lane. Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last.
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