He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. He embraced her like her father once had. Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness, and nearly as wide as the passage. Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors. “Are you free tomorrow? Should I call?” He asked.
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