The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying.
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