On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. "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. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. With the last glimmer of decency he had sent the daughter to his sister. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out.
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