Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. She never knew what became of her farmer after that.
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