“I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child. He then spoke with a certain fatherly kindliness of the past. . ” She said wistfully. She glared at him with satisfaction. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling.
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