The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. He even hugged her a few times, something he had never done. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts.
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