” Annabel’s hand stole into his. Your life is like a funeral March. I am. The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave. And with a hideous expression of pain, he fainted. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. Her knees were trembling, her whole frame was shaken with sobs. Clergymen were human. Could you pull over? She asked. " "Now for it," thought the woollen-draper, "I shall, at least, ascertain how the land lies.
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