‘But then again, possibly not. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. Her voice recalled him. " So saying, he hurried up stairs, opened the back door, and was quickly in the yard. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. "I'll make sure work this time," he added, about to repeat the blow.
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