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A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. Her arms and feet were uncovered, and of almost skeleton thinness. What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian, Wild, though it brought her to the brink of the grave, should have restored her to reason! Ah! she stirs.
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