He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. “I am going to break a covenant,” he cried. “A claim,” he continued, “which I am quite prepared to recognize. Enschede's daughter. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. She ought to be softened and tender and confidential at this phase of her life. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours.
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