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“What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. CHAPTER XXIX. “What did it matter?” she cried. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Even if you pretend sometimes to be without sense.
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