" "As in a dream. He delayed the blow till the fortunate conjuncture was past. There! You are trying to take your hand away. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. The pistol was lowered slightly. “I have made over seven hundred pounds in the last week,” he said. “I do,” he answered. " This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 10-09-2024 04:38:51
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