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" "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. I am the cause of his ill-usage. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. "I opened the padlock with this crooked nail, which I found in the floor. "That I can't say.
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