CHAPTER XIII. I could make away with him at once, as you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir Rowland,—but that wouldn't serve my turn. "Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. But it’s only now I’m able to do it. In a few minutes, an appalling change was perceptible.
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