Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. Nothing would induce me to marry you, or any man at present.
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