Soon an old woman, bent with age and crippled, came from the door and smiled as she saw the two persons coming.,
Then they move on once more, and go down the road that leads towards the farm.,
"Your husband called me 'thief.' I have not forgotten that," replies he, gloomily, the dark blood of his mother's race rushing to his cheek. "I shall remember that insult to my dying day. And let him remember this, that if ever I meet him again, alone, and face to face, I shall kill him for that word only.".
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