Wild," said the turnkey, trembling in every joint. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. . "But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. “Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. I should like to have had you forgive me. Her efforts were vain.
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