So many distresses— so many joys coming at the same time are too much for me. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. Manned by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained. She shut the door behind her.
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