Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. ’ She advanced towards him. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber.
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