. ’ ‘You speak it very well,’ Gerald said encouragingly. "You don't eat," continued Kneebone, addressing Jack, who had remained for some time thoughtful, and pre-occupied with his head upon his hand. . I didn't mean it. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. But at the word “home” she turned again. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot. Amid this portentous hush, the report of a pistol reached the carpenter's ears; and, raising his head at the sound, he beheld a sight which filled him with fresh apprehensions. She turned back into the hall.
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