He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. "That we were afraid," replied the other; "but never mind her. ‘It is in truth you?’ ‘Of course it is I. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. “How are you, Lucy?” Martin ran to catch her in the crowded hall. Understanding the appeal, the man snatched his master's sword from his grasp, and passed it through Darrell's body.
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