” She paused. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying. In a sense I don’t care. " Gently she thrust Ruth aside. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. "It's not very likely that a babby of nine months old will save my life, if I'm to be his friend, as you seem to say, Mrs. .
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