After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. He tried to make love to me. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. "Miss Thornhill's a charming girl. I'll call it my wedding gift. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. "Ah!" she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon in Sheppard's hand, "don't hurt Thames—don't, dear Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not him.
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