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So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. ” She gazed at him. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. Look at me. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack. ‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why.
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