"There's Sharples," cried Quilt. Mr. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. “Hullo!” Courtlaw, haggard, his deep-set eyes more brilliant than ever, took Anna’s hand into his, and breathed a little close drawn sigh of content. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. To work then he went, and with wonderful industry filed off two of the iron bars.
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