. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. I hate children. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. The coach in which the prisoner had been conveyed was already broken to pieces, and the driver was glad to escape with life. You want me to be clean. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck.
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