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She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. "What does Mr. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. And always they were well satisfied. "Let the gentleman take his own course," said Jonathan, mildly. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. Sheppard.
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