" "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. “Anna,” he said, “you make it all indescribably hard for me. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. " After making several ineffectual attempts to keep himself above water, Sir Rowland sunk, and his groans, which had become gradually fainter and fainter, were heard no more.
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