He embraced her like her father once had. With a faint view of overtaking them the pursuer urged his steed to a quicker pace. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. " There was another pause. . She must speak to Jack. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. Rowland felt himself sinking beneath the powerful grasp of his enemy. .
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