With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. “Then you—you will?” A long pause. ’ ‘Yes, but if it is only we that know, it is of no use at all to me. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. “Not much.
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