‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. " She opened the book which she had brought to the table. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage.
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