The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. Withdrawing another bolt, and unhooking a chain suspended from the top of the casement, Jonathan pushed the iron framework outwards. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. ” She implored him.
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