" "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. The child was still safe. She is no longer mine; she is yours. "I didn't carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you. Influenced, probably, by what he had heard from Mr. ” A sudden sense of the gravity of this thing came home to Anna. The water was cold but she waded deeper.
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