"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. "Arrest!" vociferated Wood. It could not go on much longer, her luck. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles.
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