” She said. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. " "I don't know," said the doctor, dubiously. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped. "Intruding!" echoed Mrs. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry.
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