” Mr. "Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan. " The manager began some computations. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. \"Hey, don't be a stranger, Lucy. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably.
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