" "I will yield it to no one but its mother," answered Wood. “Here, dis is for you. He was human. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. She entered and approached the bunk. He stabbed a kitchen knife between her ribs. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him.
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