Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. " "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky.
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