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You're in luck to-night, widow. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. When he faced Spurlock, the granite was cracked and rived; never had Spurlock seen such dumb agony in human eyes. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. Twelve years ago! It is an awful retrospect.
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