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We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. “Michelle, I cannot give you my blessing. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, these two must epitomise it. "The deuce he has! Why, it's only a few hours since I beheld him chained down with half a hundred weight of iron, in the strongest ward at Newgate. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. ‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. I am no exception.
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