Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. The pistol fell to the floor. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. Not enough of them to make a difference. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room.
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