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Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. Be kind to her. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. " This frankness rather subdued Spurlock. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna.
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