"Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. The violence of the collision nearly threw him backwards, and caused him to swerve as he sprang. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. . What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes.
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