"I am weary, weary, weary-worn down by misery. I cannot read what I have written with this gaunt hand.
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"Early in the morning, the rouleau of gold was left at my door in a little box, with my name on the outside.
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From the first, I had anxiously considered what I ought to do.
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I decided, that day, to write privately to the Minister, stating the nature of the two cases to which I had been summoned, and the place to which I had gone: in effect, stating all the circumstances.
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I knew what Court influence was, and what the immunities of the Nobles were, and I expected that the matter would never be heard of; but, I wished to relieve my own mind.
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I had kept the matter a profound secret, even from my wife; and this, too, I resolved to state in my letter.
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I had no apprehension whatever of my real danger; but I was conscious that there might be danger for others, if others were compromised by possessing the knowledge that I possessed.
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"I was much engaged that day, and could not complete my letter that night. I rose long before my usual time next morning to finish it. It was the last day of the year. The letter was lying before me just completed, when I was told that a lady waited, who wished to see me.
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"I am growing more and more unequal to the task I have set myself. It is so cold, so dark, my senses are so benumbed, and the gloom upon me is so dreadful.
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"The lady was young, engaging, and handsome, but not marked for long life.
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She was in great agitation.
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She presented herself to me as the wife of the Marquis St.
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I connected the title by which the boy had addressed the elder brother, with the initial letter embroidered on the scarf, and had no difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that I had seen that nobleman very lately.
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"My memory is still accurate, but I cannot write the words of our conversation.
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I suspect that I am watched more closely than I was, and I know not at what times I may be watched.
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She had in part suspected, and in part discovered, the main facts of the cruel story, of her husband's share in it, and my being resorted to.
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She did not know that the girl was dead.
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Her hope had been, she said in great distress, to show her, in secret, a woman's sympathy.
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Her hope had been to avert the wrath of Heaven from a House that had long been hateful to the suffering many.
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"She had reasons for believing that there was a young sister living, and her greatest desire was, to help that sister.
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I could tell her nothing but that there was such a sister; beyond that, I knew nothing.
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Her inducement to come to me, relying on my confidence, had been the hope that I could tell her the name and place of abode.
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