There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. I don’t see what you can have to say. ’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to have a mystery. While he was considering what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose bewildered brain another change had come, raised her head from under the straw, and peeping round the room, asked in a low voice, "If they were gone?" "Who?" inquired Jack.
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