The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. "I would sacrifice all my fortune—all my hopes —to liberate him. But this wild scheme was speedily abandoned; and, nerved by despair, the carpenter resolved to hazard an attempt, from the execution, almost from the contemplation, of which he had hitherto shrunk. ‘Comment? What do you wish?’ ‘What the devil do you think you’re up to now, I’d like to know?’ Her eyes flashed. This accident rather confirms than checks my purpose.
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