Once more he was the searcher. I thought Bess would have cried her pretty eyes out when she heard you was nabbed. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. Every one turned to her in astonishment. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom.
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