“There, there, now. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation.
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