Wood, however, was too much excited to attend to the caution. ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Absolutely. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. Still keeping ahead of his pursuers, he ran along the direct road, till the houses disappeared and he got into the open country.
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