" "Why, that must be about the time of the Great Storm," rejoined Jackson. ‘Not at all ladylike. "You hesitate—you are deceiving me. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. Profligate women are never reclaimed. ’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her.
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