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CHAPTER XIII. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. “No, you weren’t bad in the slightest. She trembled; but she did not know why. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. " "And that's true," rejoined Mrs. Here, Jem, take the gentleman's horse to the stable—see him dressed and fed directly. “She has gone down into the country. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners.
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