“Bless you, sweetheart. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. "If any one's to blame, it's me. " "But you can imagine it. " "On that night, you first met me, love," said Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to take his hand, which he coldly withdrew.
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