Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Are you now satisfied?" "No," interposed Wood, furiously, "I shall never be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn. “He is a sad blunderer. Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. "I knew he would," replied the Amazon. “I want to find an address. I’d need to be out of my senses.
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