" "Mother!" cried Jack, in a broken voice. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. One has to be so careful. "I can't say I did," replied Wood, somewhat reluctantly; "what with the confusion incident to the storm, and the subsequent press of business, I put it off till it was too late. "Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty.
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