But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. ” She murmured. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. " As he said this, in a low and mournful, but firm voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's dark eyelashes. "That's for Winifred," vociferated the Amazon, bringing the cudgel heavily upon his shoulder. ‘He don’t mean you no harm. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too.
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