And now, a fair exchange, Sir. She stared at his pleading face. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. Her normally shiny hair was 143 stringy and flat. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. I will give you all some tea, and then I must leave you for a few minutes.
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