No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. and Mrs. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. ’ ‘I didn’t say I did not enjoy it,’ Gerald protested.
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