I believed I was strong enough to go on in silence; but I'm human like everybody else. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. Anna held out her hand, and he paused. Come, make yourself scarce. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. He went on. Kentish family.
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