He went to the door. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. He became a little more personal and intimate. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer.
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