It was a simple wish. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy.
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