‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. " "And, what good would that do?" replied Ireton, sarcastically. ‘You have rifled his papers. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. " And, having partaken of a hasty breakfast, he set out. Mind, when we were all growed up, it were different. He thrust out a rhetorical hand. Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr.
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