If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. "What is he gone there for?" "With a message to the turnkey to look after his prisoner," replied Wild, with a cunning smile. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. Maybe later. He deserves none. I can’t love you. ” She raked into the fire with the poker. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it.
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