"To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul. She was very pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden.
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