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CHAPTER XIII. Seventy-six | ||
`O, spare her—spare her, Clara, whatever become of
me She is not to blame. I alone have done it. Poor
Lucia—my heart bleeds for her. I am a villain. I
obey—I banish myself forever. Keep the thing a secret
—and—I will obey.—No, no, it was not her fault.
No woman, not even Clara herself could have escaped
the snare—could—'
(Clara's brow contracted with haughty contempt)—
219
without knowing it—'
CLINTON.
CHAPTER XIII. Seventy-six | ||