Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. She got pregnant. I suppose because it IS the chief thing in life. In one of these seats, at the end of the aisle farthest removed from the chancel, the widow took her place, and addressed herself fervently to her devotions. ‘Oh, mon dieu.
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