"Take her," cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leapt through the window, and by the time the latter could consign her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air. But her tears had been for Leonardo’s expulsion, and the loss of his companionship.
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