1 Everybody, myself excepted, said no, with confidence.
2 I felt that I could bear no more, and that I must run away.
3 I looked all round for the horrible young man, and could see no signs of him.
4 I didn't know how I had done it, but I had no doubt I had murdered him somehow.
5 A man with no hat, and with broken shoes, and with an old rag tied round his head.
6 But not only was there no Constable there, but no discovery had yet been made of the robbery.
7 I told him I must go, but he took no notice, so I thought the best thing I could do was to slip off.
8 I had no time for verification, no time for selection, no time for anything, for I had no time to spare.
9 Mr. Wopsle, Joe, and I, received strict charge to keep in the rear, and to speak no word after we reached the marshes.
10 My sister went for the stone bottle, came back with the stone bottle, and poured his brandy out: no one else taking any.
11 You fail, or you go from my words in any partickler, no matter how small it is, and your heart and your liver shall be tore out, roasted, and ate.
12 Though I really see no reason why she should have worn it at all; or why, if she did wear it at all, she should not have taken it off, every day of her life.
13 I am far from being sure that I might not have astonished our small congregation by resorting to this extreme measure, but for its being Christmas Day and no Sunday.
14 I'll engage there's no Tar in that: so, the sergeant thanked him and said that as he preferred his drink without tar, he would take wine, if it was equally convenient.
15 Even when I was taken to have a new suit of clothes, the tailor had orders to make them like a kind of Reformatory, and on no account to let me have the free use of my limbs.
16 There was no doing it in the night, for there was no getting a light by easy friction then; to have got one I must have struck it out of flint and steel, and have made a noise like the very pirate himself rattling his chains.
17 But he was down on the rank wet grass, filing at his iron like a madman, and not minding me or minding his own leg, which had an old chafe upon it and was bloody, but which he handled as roughly as if it had no more feeling in it than the file.
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