‘Here you, Pottiswick. ’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. Set the boy free. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy.
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