org. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. “I feared we might have a fog. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman.
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