Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. ‘A devil is just what you are. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy.
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