Mr. He had died before they married, and when her brother became a widower she had come to his assistance and taken over much of the care of his youngest daughter. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. It was locked. Parbleu, but I will certainly kill him this time. " "Robbed him!" screamed the widow. Plus he’s a genius. "Give me the child, or—" As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs.
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