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The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. Still—you must learn for yourself. "One of us has got to die," he panted.
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