" "Mr. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. " "There, now! You mustn't get mixed. " Adhering to this change of plan, he ordered Abraham to follow him, and, descending the secret stairs once more, carried the wounded man into the lower part of the premises. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up.
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