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Wood,—"he'll never mend. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. "Then, the story of his death was false. Sheppard, and neither deserve nor desire your thanks.
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