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For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. It makes no difference. C. In nearly every speech she heard was the same implication of great and necessary changes in the world—changes to be won by effort and sacrifice indeed, but surely to be won. "Wasn't he in some way connected with the Jacobite plots?" "He was," replied Thames.
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