The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. "Oh! that I could live to see it," gasped Jonathan. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound.
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