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Updated: May 3, 2025
"He is not dead, dear mine," said she in a low voice, feeling Havel's heart. "Thank God," was all that Madelinette could say. "Let us lift him into the coach." Now Lapierre was standing beside them, the reins in his hand.
"He is not dead, dear mine," said she in a low voice, feeling Havel's heart. "Thank God," was all that Madelinette could say. "Let us lift him into the coach." Now Lapierre was standing beside them, the reins in his hand.
His brother, Joe Havel, had gone to Frankfort to meet him, and was to stop on the way home and leave some groceries for the Wheelers. The train from the east was late; it was ten o'clock that night when Mrs. Wheeler, waiting in the kitchen, heard Havel's wagon rumble across the little bridge over Lovely Creek.
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