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My only love is for my poor lost son. Let's have a look at the kinchen that ought to have been throttled," added he, snatching the child from Wood. ‘Yes, miss. I feel years younger, a man again. In this state, he contrived to get the poor black's hand into his mouth, and nearly bit off one of his fingers before the sufferer could be rescued. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. "I shall want nothing more.
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