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Her shoulders began to ache. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. ” “Did you say,” Sir John asked, “that the man’s name was Hill?” “Yes,” she answered. I can no longer bear to address you by that formal madame. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief.
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