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Trodger laid down their muskets and turned on them. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. The benches running round the room, though fastened to the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched off; while the table, which was similarly secured to the boards, was upset, and its contents—bottles, jugs, glasses, and bowls were broken and scattered about in all directions. It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. “I wish he had,” she said.
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