At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably.
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