“I am frightened now. ’ The full story—or as much as Gerald knew—of Valade’s machinations shocked the old lady so much that she was obliged to recruit her strength with a refill from the Madeira decanter. Bodies! Bodies! Horrible things! We are souls. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you.
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