"Here is my purse; and I trust you will let me know to whom I am indebted for this important service. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. ***** October. Wait, though.
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