It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. gutenberg. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. Kneebone, he took his departure. ” Anna never flinched.
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