Wood at Dollis Hill, was assaulted and half-killed by a party of ruffians, headed, he swore, by Mr. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. She loved to be told to do things.
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