A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours. ‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer. "How?" cried her brother, starting. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. " "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. "Don't look at it, I entreat," she cried.
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