His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork.
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