"Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. “Very well,” said her father. "An American. “Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. He has hanged twelve of his associates already.
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