” “So you think. . " "Devil!" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. "I didn't awake you, because you seemed tired.
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