“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. Speedily recovering himself, however, he rejoined, with forced calmness, "You are mistaken, Sir. \" He said. “I think that it is only an idea. They had refused. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. .
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