A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. ’ ‘I’m coming to that. Hurled over the sides of the skiff, the ruffian speedily found a watery grave. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her.
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