" "My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence," replied Jack, humbly. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. Nothing could occupy her attention long today, unless it concerned her situation. Small, but eminently serviceable. "For my part, I don't think you ever quite got over the accident you met with on the night of the Great Storm. There was none. " "Better she die by her own hand, than by that monster's," cried Jack, brandishing the bar.
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