"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. Let us search it. They are used to me, they only cry because they have become so used to being here. “Tell him to drive—anywhere,” she exclaimed. ’ Your name alone would fill any music hall in London. As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered.
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