'—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. A shiver slid down inside her. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. "But trifle with mo no longer. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword.
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