" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. We all love you dearly.
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