"Oh! Jack! Jack!—you little know what a price I've paid for you!" "Well, I'm glad those women are gone," remarked Shotbolt. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. ’ ‘Don’t talk soft,’ begged Martha.
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