“The rest,” she said, holding tightly to his hands, “is the most important of all. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. Death belongs to God, young man. Blest with a fond husband, surrounded by every comfort, you have never been assailed by the horrible temptations to which misery has exposed me. Ever since he came here, three months ago, he has been the life and soul of the place; and now the death warrant has arrived, instead of being cast down, as most men would be, and as all others are, he's gayer than ever.
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