” “I will have your reason for this,” he said. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. Something, I'm convinced, has happened to the boys. CHAPTER XIX. “That’s HIM,” said Ann Veronica, in sound, idiomatic English. "I thought I heard a noise. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man. Your speaking of the trial brings the whole scene to my mind. "How?" cried her brother, starting. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. His face fell. I think that nearly every manager in London has made me an offer.
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