“My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. If he awoke and caught you at it, there might be a set-back. Contenting himself with brandishing the weapon in the Jew's eyes, he exerted all his force to prevent him from rising. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment.
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