"Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. "Set your prisoner free!" returned Wood. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. Why, honestly enouch.
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