I ought never to have thought of it. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. Look at me. I don't believe he is much past forty. You are my prisoner, murderer. That's my maxim; and it's the maxim of every honest man. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us.
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