. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. I have been waiting a long time for a family like them. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. She peered into the darkness. He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. “Listen,” she said. ‘How is this? Proo-den-ss. \" \"Good night, Mom. “Heaven knows!” said Mr. Plote was sleeping or deaf.
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