But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. ‘She’s terrified. His fingers closed upon her hand. She wanted to think. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. In spite of all this, he grew daily better and stronger, and his spirits revived. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you.
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