" "On that night, you first met me, love," said Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to take his hand, which he coldly withdrew. . “My dear,” she said, when she could get her breath, “you must come home at once. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber.
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