" "Give them to me," replied Jack. ‘But I’ve known that for years. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Winifred's face had a thoroughly amiable look.
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