Why, Nab, you shake as if you'd got an ague?" he added, turning to the Jew, whose teeth chattered audibly. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Then, I thought, she has repented, all will be well.
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