She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. I can no longer bear to address you by that formal madame. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. So the talk went on. Jack Sheppard's Escape from the New Prison 258 V.
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