Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. He listened to the thunder of the fall now mingling with the roar of the blast; and, driven almost frantic by what he heard and saw, he pushed with all his force against the stone. He buys his own clothes, chooses his own company, makes his own way of living. 9. That is not reasonable. .
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