Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. " The walls were covered with racks of loaded rifles. But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. They tried to read illustrated papers in an unconcerned manner and with forced attention, lest they should catch the leaping exultation in each other’s eyes. My Mom inherited our house from our Grandma, otherwise they never could have afforded it, not even twenty years ago.
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