You must keep out of the way till it's blown over. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. ’ She struck her hands together. ‘But you said she was looking for proof. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. I will be very well without him. She further suspected that he might find a servant to dally with in the meantime, if he had not already.
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