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” “Perhaps you remember me, Miss Pellissier,” the second young man interposed. “I cut off his right hand pinky with his own rusty bolt cutter. I sha'n't cry any more. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. . The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him. She kept her eyes closed.
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