He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. “You are a miracle! God spares few from the Pestilence. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. Wants me to look out for you a bit. Her voice was weak and flat. “But I have no troubles. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm.
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