As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. " "We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, with a sneer. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. "These writer chaps are queer birds. "To be plain, then," said Winifred, "he has asked me whether I have any objection to you as a mother. I'm no mollycoddle. That’s my point.
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