You are all that I am or hope to be—the celestial atom God put into me at the beginning. He had no wish to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna.
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