This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire. In this spy theory, however, he had no faith whatsoever. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip.
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