“Yes. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. He seemed too noisy. The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms.
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