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I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. " "Give you the best I have in either case," replied Figg.
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