"I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time. After partaking of some little refreshment, and changing her attire, Mrs. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey. I wrenched this off, and in an envelope addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls. “I am sick of it.
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