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Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. " "I'v not failed," returned Jack, angrily; "but we've done too much. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. " The girl's blood ran warmly for a minute. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home.

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