Mr. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. Hastening to the church, he entered it by the very door near which his first crime had been committed. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. ‘Take this. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself.
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