"We shall all be murdered. Mr. " "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. Something seemed awry. ’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you.
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