If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. And so Misther Wudd lives near the Black Lion, eh?" "He does," replied Thames. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her.
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