The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. They've paid for their lodging. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. . " "But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable dog-talk.
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