” She said. "You are my prisoner, Jack. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room. It shall be done as you direct. "Don't go, I beg of you!" she implored. After all, why need one look down. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. “I feel justified then,” he said, “in annexing his chair. What little happiness I had I was forced to steal. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself.
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