“I was sick of the make-believe. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. " "Blessings upon him!" cried Lady Trafford, fervently. " While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped. His eyes closed.
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