He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. "You are my prisoner, Jack. You know not in what dark places my life has been cast; with what crimes it has been stained. Take, if you please, your own pistol. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening.
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