It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. They must be for your father. You are a sisterless man; you have never heard the ordinary talk that goes on at a girls’ boarding-school. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers.
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