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A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. Shotbolt nodded in token of acquiescence, and emitted an odd guttural sound. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said. “I heard they came from somewhere outrageous. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room.
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