So let me assure you now that we are not accusing you of a crime. Take that box, and put it into the carriage yourself. If I am to die in the attempt, then so be it. He seated himself before it. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. "Who are you?" inquired Mrs.
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