The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. And he had gone away without knowing the truth! "My proa boys are ready; the wind is brisk; and in an hour we shall be beyond all pursuit. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. I dared not sing, I dared not laugh, except when you went away. I won't dig their graves with my nails. "But, as I was saying, I was most dreadfully frightened on the night of the robbery! Though so young at the time, I remember every circumstance distinctly. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done.
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