"May I ask whether you made any further inquiries into the mysterious affair about which we were speaking just now?" observed Jackson, turning to the carpenter. But what did he know beyond these facts? Nothing, clearly. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. To be complete, my vengeance must be tardy. Let him be sure. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. She loved him. It was impossible. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street.
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