By this time, he had apparently accomplished all he desired; for moving the bottle out of Jack's reach, he appropriated it entirely to his own use, leaving the devoted lad to the care of the females. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. He described her privately to himself as a splendid girl.
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