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But Gerald kept to a casual note. The robbers proceeded singly, and kept on the grass skirting the road, so that no noise was made by their horses' feet. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy. Nobody who cared.

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