And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. Robbed of their prey, the fury of the mob became ungovernable. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. Darrell, however, rose again instantly; and though mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain the boat.
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