Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. Threw it out. "There he is!" "I fear not," said her father, with a doubtful shake of the head.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 28-06-2024 05:04:38
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