Then she saw him. Mr. 1. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. Mr. Sebastian, as doctor, was constantly around the sick and the dying.
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