She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. "Within the last few minutes, all my guilty life has passed before me. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. " "Won't you go?" cried Jack passionately. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. “I say!” he cried. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. .
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