"It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel.
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