‘It is nothing. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. I'll be wanting my sixteen thousand. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek.
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