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Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. Hang the wench! Roding was right. I suspect he has been at work upon those he has on. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. I told her I was sick today and she told me to get over myself. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood.
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