" "Bring him here,—let me see him—let me embrace him—let me be assured that he is safe, and I am yours. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. " "But why didn't you oppose him?" "I had to let him have his way, else he might not have returned safely. " "Mr. Poor Ben was not so fortunate. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair.
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