Mr. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. She could think of nothing more to say. " "There you are, just as I said. "My stars! here's a pretty lullaby-cheat to make a fuss about—ho! ho!" "Deal with me as you think proper, gentlemen," exclaimed Wood; "but, for mercy's sake don't harm the child! Let it be taken to its mother. She rolled to one side.
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