Casting a hasty glance, as he was about to turn an angle of the wall, at the great gates and upper windows of the prison, and perceiving no symptoms of pursuit, Jack proceeded towards the hovel at a very deliberate pace, carefully assisting his female companion over every obstacle in the road, and bearing her in his arms when, as was more than once the case, she sank from fright and exhaustion. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought. He let go of the girl’s arm. . ’ Her breath tightened and she was obliged to control an inner ferocity. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier. But what a monster was this Emile.
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