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"Stop, Caliban," interposed Mrs. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. There was a coffee equipage on the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made up. It isn’t such fun as it seems. I was certain of it. They had been married for well over one hundred years.
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