"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. “The first is to discover what she is here for, and where she is staying. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. " "We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head.
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