But I waited in vain. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. ’ She grimaced. The boat's sure to run foul o' the bridge; and if she 'scapes stavin' above, she'll be swamped to a sartainty below. I had a hunch.
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