She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. When she awoke, her husband held her hand as 31 Sebastianus urged her to drink weak wine. But he told me this much, that no matter how far Mr.
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