Are you now satisfied?" "No," interposed Wood, furiously, "I shall never be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. Seizing her hand he covered it with kisses. To his relief, she nodded. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned. ‘Wait for me. She glanced into his face.
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