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Several people in the crowd seemed to be fighting. Attempts were made upon the door of the Lodge; but it was too strong to be forced. Mrs. Mr. The owner was at the door unhooking a few articles of wearing apparel which he had exposed outside for sale. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. “Sure. I should have gone mad without it. Shotbolt?" rejoined the executioner. Mrs. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key.

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