He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. " "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. See? You marry me.
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