Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. Water soaked her through in five minutes. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back to Marvel to tell him that all was ready, and to give him his last instructions. There were too many kills, too many unsolved files in too many cabinets. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience.
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