" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a thin crack between the door and the frame. At the head of the cart was placed the coffin. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone.
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