“I have stood it for a month, Anna,” he exclaimed. ” Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the slightest flush of colour. ‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. "Mark me," said Jack, sternly; "I have twice broken out of this prison in spite of all your precautions. Spit of your mother.
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