If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern. Do not underestimate my power. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. Tell me, Sir," she added, with forced calmness, and grasping Wood's arm; "what has Jack done? Tell me in a word, that I may know the worst.
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