” The note of his own voice exasperated him. Come and see him, Lucia. ” She laughed softly. "Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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