McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. But there was no sign from her. She was radiant. Having read the three first verses of the impressive service appointed for the burial of the dead, he returned to the church, whither the coffin was carried through the south-western door, and placed in the centre of the aisle—Mr. . ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. "Look quick, d—n you, or we shall never master him!" "Murder!" shrieked Mrs. Courtlaw sat with folded arms.
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