"Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. 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 cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. ’ Thus adjured, but mindful of Trodger’s orders, the militiaman went down the hall backwards, his eyes fixed on the prisoner.
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