It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. "It was given me by poor dear Mrs. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening.
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