A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. They litter up the room. You get the idea. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance.
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