We’ll have some buttered toast. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. Attempt to molest me, and I split. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. ‘Go you through the passage and find the other door. ” She stopped. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable.
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