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She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. I am a murderer. " "But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. " "Man!" screamed Mrs. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. "I told you the prison wasn't built that could hold me," cried Jack.
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