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She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. " "It'll not need to be repeated, at all events," rejoined Jonathan, looking with a smile of malignant satisfaction at the body. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica.
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