" "We know it," cried several voices. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood on it.
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