ToC During the whole of the next day and night, the poor widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the debtors' garrison,—for admission (by the Master's express orders,) was denied her. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. "Altogether unsuccessful, Sir," said the chief turnkey, with a look of disappointment, not unmixed with apprehension, as he approached Wild. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her.
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