Always as black and bitter as gall. The door popped open with a sigh. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. ‘Not from the nuns, no. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. Her heart's in the right place, at all events; and, since that's the case, the rest may perhaps come round, —that is, if she gets through her present illness. "My plan is a very simple one," rejoined the thief-taker smiling bitterly. Light flooded the place. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him.
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