"You are arrested for high treason," rejoined Wild, presenting a pistol at his head, while he drew forth a parchment,—"here is my warrant. I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. “Either I want to shout,” said Mr. The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the women had disturbed and distressed her. I'll try to fill in the gaps.
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