McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water.
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