Forthwith he presented his card. He perceived, however, that both the novels he read and the world he lived in discountenanced these assumptions. "My friends, Mr. A sinister thought edged in. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. ’ To be sure there was a way. ' Will that do?" "It will," replied Trenchard. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. He will be hanged—hanged—hanged. ‘I am nine-and-twenty,’ he answered. . "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily.
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