Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. While involved in this crowd, near Temple Bar, —where the thoroughfare was most dangerous from the masses of ruin that impeded it,—an individual, whose swarthy features recalled to the carpenter one of his tormentors of the previous night, collared him, and, with bitter imprecations accused him of stealing his child. There's the grand laced coat he wore at his trial, which I intend for my wedding-dress. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck.
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