"I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. " "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," observed Wood. " "Vy don't you talk to your partner, or Saint Giles, if you vant conversation, Aaron?" asked Jack, slyly. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. But he had been forewarned by his great-nephew. Hetty, who had periods of lucid expression, put the thing for her from her pillow.
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