" "Look at it, then," said Wild, giving him the portfolio. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. Now she knew why the soldiers had not caught him. The face of the man who lay there was clearly visible. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances.
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