Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave. He perceived, however, that both the novels he read and the world he lived in discountenanced these assumptions.
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