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And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. "My worst fears are realized. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. This I know for at the Valade estate it was talked of very much, even that they supposed me there to be the daughter of Suzanne. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. "It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile.
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