And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. ” “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He accused. Wood. "I've got to see him; but I'll be reasonable. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. "How have you managed to communicate with him?" Abraham, who had listened attentively to the foregoing conversation,—not a word of which escaped him,—now drew in his breath, and brought his ear closer to the boards.
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