"Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. It throbs cruelly. "You won't betray him. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. He rolled onto his belly, freeing himself from her hands, pushing her away. The thing is done. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. Carefully sustaining the child which, even in that terrible extremity, he had not the heart to abandon, he fell upon his knees, and, guiding himself with his right hand, crept slowly on. Fly! they shall knock me on the head—curse 'em!—before they shall touch you.
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