" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. ’ ‘Don’t talk soft,’ begged Martha. There were two sisters, you know. She stepped into his arms. He gave you a poison. The morning of Monday the 16th of November 1724 at length dawned.
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