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He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone.
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