It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. "I thought I heard a scream. "Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs.
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