The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. Let us search it. "It's of no use," observed Thames quietly, but with a look that chilled the little damsel's heart;—"my resolution is taken. The idea of your being a failure would never have occurred to me. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment.
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