What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. No trouble will ever come to your sister through me. " The doctor ran his fingers through his hair, despairingly. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. ‘Poor Hilary. Had to. The sight of the thief-taker increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree.
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