"Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. \" She looked at Mike. Regardless of the risk he incurred from some heavy stone dropping on his head or feet,—regardless also of the noise made by the falling rubbish, and of the imminent danger which he consequently ran of being interrupted by some of the jailers, should the sound reach their ears, he continued to pull down large masses of the wall, which he flung upon the floor of the cell. “One has to be so careful of one’s friends and acquaintances,” he remarked, by way of transition.
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