It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Her desires were not for riches. "I vent to de New Prish'n, and on wishitin' his shel vid de turnkey, vot should ve find but de shains on de ground, de vinder broken, and Jack and Agevorth Besh gone. I thought Mr. Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. The prisoner breathed with difficulty. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways.
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