"You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. . Some excuse for this rapacity may perhaps be found in the fact, that five thousand pounds was paid for the purchase of the Press Yard by Mr. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. His face turned a dark crimson. " Mr. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. " "Ay, and there's my liver. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. It was clear by the look on her face that she decided to leave the house immediately. She did not resist him, she could not.
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