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So pulse or no pulse, dead or alive, they got Sturk into his bed.
Poor, cowed, quiet little Mrs. Sturk, went quite wild at the bedside.
'Oh! my Barney - my Barney - my noble Barney,' she kept crying. 'He's gone - he'll never speak again. Do you think he hears? Oh, Barney, my darling - Barney, it's your own poor little Letty - oh - Barney, dar
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