There were no mourners. Her eyes flashed. The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. Quite right. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;— now to wrench it off with the bar: but all without effect. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. F.
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