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As a matter of fact Mr. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of St. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. Following this direction, he opened a gate, and struck into one of the most beautiful green lanes imaginable; which, after various windings, conducted him into a more frequented road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought. "What did the old fellow judge from, eh, Joan?" asked he. Spurling and Marvel rose too.
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