And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Then the foremost bowed and passed on. “I cannot say who he is,” said Ann Veronica, “but he is a married man.
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