‘It is all the fault of that lantern. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. ‘Give me an opportunity to open my mouth, and I will. I said I’d make shirts. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found.
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