I'm sure she'll let me go, though. He carried a small bag. “It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. . ’ She stopped, for Jack was feebly laughing. CHAPTER XIX. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. " "I know not how it is," sighed Darrell, "but I feel an unaccountable misgiving at quitting this place. More than half the city perished.
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