"My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. "I want to know what you've done with the rest of the notes—with the gold— and the papers you took away from my room!" rejoined Wild. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. "My coat!" Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. Melusine, intent on the luckless Kimble, did not care. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief.
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