Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. She paused for a moment. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. Suddenly he understood what had happened. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. " "Rather behind me;" and he spoke no more that morning.
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