" He rose for fear she might touch him again. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr.
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