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’ ‘You may arrest me later. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. It is easy enough to sing these little chansons in an original way—it requires a very different sort of ability to succeed on the stage. His eyes were closed.
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