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Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. ” She demanded. '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. But I'm resolved to see Lady Trafford. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright.
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