“Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. ” He drew a little nearer to her. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. Besides, I do not want a price on my head. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling.
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