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She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. "Not a moment is to be lost," cried Jack: "follow me. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions.
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