"I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. "Why did I not keep the money when I had it?" returned Blueskin, angrily. But this was not a season in which to be needlessly scrupulous.
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