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But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. My heart fails me. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. "You show more consideration to the feelings of a hempen widow, than there is any need to show. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. " "Ah, Jack," said Wood, shaking his head, "where there's a will there's a way. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. ‘You kissed me that you might make me find it for you instead?’ ‘I had no such intention.
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