Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. Besides, I acted for others, and not for myself. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave.
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