Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. “Tell me,” he said; “speak to me. I am already too much flattered that you should have given me your confidence. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ‘Not in the open street. You cannot—shall not retreat. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter.
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