At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. This gloom was impossible. ‘That way. She had no place she loved. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. "To-morrow I will take you to him.
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