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She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. "He's about to cross the river. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. Also he had said—laughing in that way with his eyes which made a flutter in her chest— that Prudence will find an Englishman to marry her. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is.
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