“And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. Always as black and bitter as gall. As soon as he was certain he should be disturbed no more, Jack set to work, and with the aid of the file in less than an hour had freed himself from his fetters. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. ‘Grace à vous, I am compelled to rescue myself.
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