" "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. It felt too good. Fetter Lane, on the left, Gray's Inn, on the right, added their supplies. "There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. That really settles about that. My little maidservant will think that I am lost. He let go of the girl’s arm. ” “Men,” said Miss Miniver, “NEVER have a reason. She had made a bed for herself out of wood and furs.
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