Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. A queer game this: he could not move directly as in an ordinary case of manhunt.
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