" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. ’ Still the girl said nothing. ” The hand lingered too long. Stanley. ” She was able to go straight to her room without delay, and she at once locked the door with a little sigh of relief.
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