“Get me someone, Oracle. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. . Annabel, I was lying. No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction.
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