“No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. " "But, my love," still remonstrated Wood, "you know I'm going to look after the boys——" "After Mrs. “Not much,” he answered, “and yet about all there is to be known, I fancy. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. “I will not ask you to explain further. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. That’s one thing clear. And if you mean that he may have reconciled himself with his own father, you waste your breath. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily.
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