As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually slipping off the platform. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. She's headed for America. " "Only two minutes more, Sir," intreated Edgeworth Bess, advancing towards him in such a manner as to screen Jack, who crept into the farthest part of the angle,—"only two minutes, and we've done. For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. "Yes," answered the girl. .
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