"Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. " But she did not complete the thought aloud. She bounced onto her bottom. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. . She could tell it was new territory for him and he might lose the nerve to take them off himself, without the aid of drink. "Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. A bad man, in fact.
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