E. It was eleven o'clock. "I half suspect this is a highwayman," thought the Jew; "he's so ready with his cash. They're only just gone, mercy on us! what a clatter," she added, as the knocking was repeated more violently than before. His shirt also was unbuttoned, and disclosed a neck like that of an ox, and a chest which might have served as a model for a Hercules. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried.
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