Nine years ago, I worked in this very house—had a kind indulgent master, whom I robbed—twice robbed, at your instigation, villain; a mistress, whom you have murdered; a companion, whose friendship I have for ever forfeited; a mother, whose heart I have well-nigh broken. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. You were dying and your baby along with you. He still watched her and questioned her.
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