"Good bye!" cried Jack, as if taking leave of his mistresses, "to-morrow, at the same time. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. Like stealing. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood.
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