Now the baby’s bright May eyes peered up at her intently. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. When the twins had first come to live in the 208 house, they were thin and bony, their tiny mouths crying for food. Wood entered the room, followed by Thames. .
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