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"If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. "I am twenty," said the girl. For a moment she remained silent. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. The latter appeared to contain several papers, which Jack carefully put by, in the hope that they might turn out of importance in a scheme of vengeance which he meditated against the thief-taker. ’ ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Back to Blaye, my girl.
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