. CHAPTER XXII. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. "Yes, now," rejoined the infuriated dame; "perhaps, I may never have another opportunity. He turned just in time to see Lucilla exchange an amused look with Hilary. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast.
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