E. . “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. . I’ve had a lot on my mind. What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. ‘Eh bien?’ She thrust again, from the same place. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. The three of them laughed joyously.
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