With an open hand, he slapped her face. . "Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously.
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