Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. ’ Then all at once remembrance made her smile. "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. "One of us has got to die," he panted. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know.
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