The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. "They say her son's taken at last, and is to be hanged. “Thank you—and good-bye. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. —There, Mr. “Your father is in the study and wishes to speak to you. As he fell, he caught at the projecting masonry.
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