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’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker. Places, I found, were daily given away, And yet no friendly gazette mentioned Gay. "Tomorrow I shall have a visitor.
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