“I wouldn’t. I was his wife. ’ ‘I have found Mary Remenham’s daughter,’ he repeated. I guess those books are okay because they are fiction. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. She turned quickly. A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. Le Mercier and Stowe of St.
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