. . " "Pray cease this nonsense," said Winifred, "and quit the room, or I will call for assistance. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. "Even if you are not a principal, you are an accessory. “Dear John,” she whispered. More than half the city perished. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth.
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