"And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, "I've a piece o' good news for you. I am aware that you ran away from there, but—’ ‘Certainly I ran away,’ she said, meeting his gaze with defiance in her own. In this state Mrs. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. " "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron.
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