CHAPTER XII. Go for it. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. The smile had become a laugh. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. ’ ‘All the way to England?’ She opened wide eyes. The young lady saw the change, and almost snorted.
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