Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. And, in spite of the boy's resistance, he plunged his hands into his pockets, and drew forth the miniature. You will go to London?” “It is necessary,” she answered. They were suddenly thrown aside, and a man stepped out from his hiding-place. Then her fingers moved. Never had she seemed to him so much like Anna.
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