He stirred continually, thrusting his legs about and flinging his arms above his head. Kneebone's man is in the shop," said Rachel; "he'll take it. Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. 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. She knew very well that a new thing was stirring in her.
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