In vain Wood protested his innocence. She found the silence comforting, as old people often do. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. The unequal battle went on. From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case. “What do you mean?” Lucy asked.
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