Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. " "Impracticable dolt!" exclaimed Jonathan, furiously. "It won't do to betray the officer," he muttered. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on.
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