Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. "I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. “And yet I wonder whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex.
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