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They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. "We shall see. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. “I will tell you something if you like. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand.
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