” He bent and kissed her hair and paused, and then forced his attention back to the map. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. " "Then, we'll lose no more time," returned Jack. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. It's precisely what such a simpleton would do. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft.
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