Warned of the approach of the prisoners by the increased clamour, Sharples, who was busied in distributing the Marquis's donation, affected to throw the remainder of the money among the crowd, though, in reality, he kept back a couple of guineas, which he slipped into his sleeve, and running hastily up the steps, unlocked the door. Aroused by the sound of the church bells, he resolved, at whatever risk, to attend Divine service. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. I’m damaged goods. Lucia had never been so happy, so content.
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