Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. We had better have it over. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. Wood, in equal trepidation. “To the best of my belief, I have never seen the man in my life.
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