” “Ay,” he repeated, looking away from her. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. This is no place for me. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. The air was thick with feelings. " "Jack's a noble fellow," exclaimed the head-jailer of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass; "and, though he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy deliverance. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool.
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