She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. "An oath weighs little with me, compared with your safety. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. Locked! He sped out to the corridor and went swiftly into the next room. gutenberg.
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