"Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. "You came hither under my protection, and you shall depart freely,—nay, more, you shall have an hour's grace. The doors of several of the wards were thrown open for these parties, and as Jack passed, he could not help glancing at the wretched inmates. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. “I tell my Mom everything.
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