Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor.
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