“You must fetch a doctor,” she said. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. “And where are YOU going?” he said. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. "Thames Darrell only waits my mandate to follow him.
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