She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips.
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