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He singled out my poor husband from a crowd of other felons; and you know how right he was in that case, Sir. "Mr. ” “I can’t go back to the Beck’s ever again. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. Our mutual safety requires it. One day it was gone.
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