155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart. The lad hesitated. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned.
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