So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. Nothing ensued. " "Death and fiends!" exclaimed Jack; "the old thief is there. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter.
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