You’re NOT to go. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. I will shed no more blood. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed.
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