Wood. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his wishes, whether expressed or implied—would depart without consulting him, he was equally surprised and enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting her to the carriage. In this spy theory, however, he had no faith whatsoever. Then he threw the letter at me. “How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded.
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