"My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. "One whom you may perhaps have forgotten," replied the stranger, "but who can never forget the kindness he experienced at your hands, or at those of your excellent husband.
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