There was a girlfriend who was mentally ill. 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. The two sisters were very fond of one another, I believe. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. Little did he know that she had begged her parents as a youngster to get her a language tutor. “Yes. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. Come close to me, and let me hold your hand, dear. “Thank you.
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