It ought not to be much. I wanted to have something to give up. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. Finally Lucy replied. 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.
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