She had imagined she had drowned them altogether. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small inn,—which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six Bells,—where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows.
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