Here," he added, throwing a handbill on the bed, "are the particulars of the burglary, with the reward for Jack's apprehension. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. "I need not ask whether this is Mr. Daughters were not like sons.
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