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I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter. "Well, well, we'll say no more about it," replied Wood; "and, by way of changing the subject, let me advise you on no account to fly to strong waters for consolation, Joan. His hands came up, his face broke apart. Further on, there was a small chandler's shop, where Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter, attended by a little girl. I mystify you; I can see that. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. That is good. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects.

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