Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. "Thank you, Mrs. “Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice.
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