Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. " "Don't mention such a thing, Sir," interrupted the tapstress. " It was only a shade better than the Stone Hold. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. And nearly all these things were fearfully ill-paid.
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