Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. Noiselessly, his booted feet stepping with careful restraint, he started forward, signalling to Roding to follow. "Don't fire," cried the latter.
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