Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down.
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