And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door. ’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively.
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