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Wood uttered something like an imprecation. You complain of a condition, but you leave the correction to someone else. . So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. "Yon's a dear man," said McClintock.
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