The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. "Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. " He passed it over; and Ruth read: To be opened in case of my death and the letter inside forwarded to the address thereon.
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