Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. " "My God!" cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelligence, "I have killed her. I need scarcely ask whether you've executed your appointed task, my dear? You're never behindhand. Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears. The hansom sped through the crowded streets.
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