“Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. She had killed him. While this was going on, Jack suddenly made a movement which attracted the turnkey's attention; and during that interval the old man slipped some articles wrapped in a handkerchief into Bess's hands, who instantly secreted them in her bosom. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice.
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