” He left at once, immensely relieved, yet scarcely satisfied with himself as regarded his share of the interview with this young woman. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. That would be myself, or if she lived, Mary’s daughter. Now, more than ever, it was time to start running. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife.
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