. . Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. No sooner did the vehicle turn the corner of this yard, than Quilt became aware, from the tumultuous sounds that reached his ears, as well as from the flashing of various lanterns at the door of the round-house, that some disturbance was going on; and, apprehensive of a rescue, if he drew up in the midst of the mob, he thought it prudent to come to a halt. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again. “How do you feel?” she asked. “Goodnight.
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