The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. ’ ‘Ah, that explains your surprise. ‘I should have thought it was obvious. She put her hand in his to be squeezed. "Be still, and you'll receive no injury," returned Jackson. At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted.
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