“But the thing is, I want a job. Smith," observed Wood. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. " "My sister Constance!" echoed the knight; "what of her?" "You agree to my proposal, then?" said Jonathan. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. I came to the Beck’s house. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know.
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