The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. "You thank Heaven for the escape of the man who did his best to get your child's neck twisted. “Lighten up. " But she did not complete the thought aloud.
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