Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. Cathy's eyebrows perked up. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjE1NS4yMTYgLSAxMy0wNi0yMDI0IDAzOjIxOjU4IC0gODgwNjYxMTc0
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