Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. As they 56 approached the manor, she was permitted to peep her head outside the chariot's front window. Surely Capes was different. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. . “Good-bye, John,” she said simply.
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