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His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. ‘The poor girl was thrust into a convent to become a nun. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. It's a bad omen to be thrown near that door. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them. Carefully sustaining the child which, even in that terrible extremity, he had not the heart to abandon, he fell upon his knees, and, guiding himself with his right hand, crept slowly on.
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