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Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations around the table. There was a gallows erected, and a great mob round it—thousands of people, and all with white faces like corpses. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. “One would think I had said nothing about the matter. "And now to dispose of our dead. ” “It might become one,” he answered.
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