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Come along, master. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. She was only trying to distract you so that she might escape. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. The shock and distress were genuine.
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