‘Let it fall!’ ‘Brute!’ she spat, struggling, and he knew at once he had guessed aright. "Hush!" she said. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles.
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