"Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. "Holloa—what's that?" cried Austin, starting up. ” She came closer. “She doesn’t know. ‘And nor do I. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla.
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