“I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. “Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. I don't want her hurt. "Concerning whom?" "Mrs. She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. Suddenly remembering Kimble, her heart thudded with excitement. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. "To make your mind perfectly easy on the score of Mrs.
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