" "It shall be, Sir," replied Ireton, bowing. Parbleu, but she was a fool. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. I can’t. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. The unfortunate prisoner, meanwhile, who was not informed of the respite, languished in his horrible dungeon, and, at the expiration of three weeks, became so seriously indisposed that it was feared he could not long survive. It had been removed from the scabbard by the Jew.
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