"Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. I could not become an Oracle. While I am talking about your friends, I feel—I think you ought to know how I look at it. “Never mind me. When were you last confessed, Sir Rowland?" he added abruptly. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir.
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