Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. But to plunge blindly into the unknown!" "I had to! I had to!" She had told him only the first part of her story. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate.
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