Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. Her patience was waning fast. “Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken.
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