The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. "Since the sea has spared him, I will spare him. “This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. They're only just gone, mercy on us! what a clatter," she added, as the knocking was repeated more violently than before.
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