“You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. It was hot and dry. She got up early, and walked about the garden in the dewy June sunshine and revived her childhood. . I have—run away. Wood, the carpenter, who formerly resided here, is still living?" "If you feel any anxiety on his account, Sir, I'm happy to be able to relieve it," answered Kneebone, readily. Now, you know where he is bound.
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