The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. Here, it might be anything at all. Wood will be intercepted. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. Sir John felt hot and furious.
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