"Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly. ” She turned a firelit face to her husband. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. The doctor frowned. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. Wood from pressing his suit long ago.
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