Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. “Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt.
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