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Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. She pulled him towards the bed. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. "Oh! if I had known this," he exclaimed, "what guilt, what remorse might have been spared me!" "Repentance comes too late when the deed's done," returned Wild, bitterly.
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