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Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. The lad hesitated. Darrell, however, rose again instantly; and though mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain the boat. I did all for the best, I'm sure. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. Twenty-one, twenty-two. After all there are other things. Don’t take my word for it though. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept.
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