"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. They clapped wildly afterward. Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. ’ He added on a teasing note, ‘Though if there’s anything suspicious we can always get the key from Pottiswick. “Feel better. "This is strange," said Jack, under his breath. Once he had managed to stake his claim, she would have all to do to prove her identity and win it back. “She wasn’t sane, my wife.
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