Shortly afterwards, he re-appeared with the information that the captive was safe below; and giving the necessary directions to his crew, before many minutes had elapsed, the Zeeslang spread her canvass to the first breeze of morning. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion. “John, don’t!” she cried. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced.
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