“What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. " "I don't unterstand you," returned Mrs. Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. 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. But I can give it its name now. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Beneath that tree let us lie.
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