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“You are a miracle! God spares few from the Pestilence. And were you to load me with thrice the weight of iron you have ordered you should not prevent my escaping a third time. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. ” “The life of a young girl is set about with prowling pitfalls, from which she must be shielded at all costs. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage.
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