Submission to the inevitable carried her through the circumstances of her appearance before the magistrate. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch.
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