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McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction. Every moment or two he bent over his patient. Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine. “You say you want a vote,” said Mr. But they were too late.
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