” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. Are you sure you're not misinformed, Sir?" "I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the jailer. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat.
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