‘You are an avid reader, I take it. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Her father had smiles ready for her, he seemed to be truly happy with her for the first time since her infancy. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave.
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