You go to your room and ring for your maid. Her little white hand stole across the table. “You are a miracle! God spares few from the Pestilence. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. “I went to Anna’s rooms because I felt that I must see her. Yet you knew that I was not dead. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. "You have always been, far dearer to me than myself," replied Mrs. It was a letter.
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