" "Why, what'll you do?" demanded the turnkey. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side. ’ ‘I’m afraid you are right. I feel years younger, a man again. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss.
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