I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver. "Coming!—so is midnight—so is Jonathan Wild," retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames. She was practically destitute of jewellery.
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