As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. " "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. “But how can you?” asked Constance. ” “You want my body? It’s yours for the taking. ” He reeled out of the room. “You too sing?” he asked. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself.
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