Ann Veronica’s universe, which had never been altogether so respectful to her as she could have wished, gave a shout and whirled head over heels. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. " Neither man spoke. " Thus urged, Jack reluctantly departed. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. “I am frightened now.
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