Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin, the fellow who just left the room, on the very night of his return, as it has thrown the house into such confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had no time as yet for hostile movements. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. “Every one raves about her,” Lady Angela continued. I'll call it my wedding gift.
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