CHAPTER III. "I have killed her," cried Jack. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. These were the Master's body-guard. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. “Um, I really shouldn’t tell you this, but he said.
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