" "I knew it," rejoined Wild, with concentrated rage; "and he escaped you all, in broad day, before your faces. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. Yet she held her tongue.
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