On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. ’ ‘Dear me. F. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom.
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