"You are my prisoner. " "No," thundered Wild. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed himself. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. He can come round there. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand.
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