Her pa was only the smithy. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. “Should I leave? Sounds like she is running out of food. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. ” The idea struck him as novel. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance.
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