net/license). I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. Lucy kissed him on the cheek. I am an independent sort of person,” she continued, “and I am engaged in an attempt to earn my own living. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom.
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