For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. Wood's. “My sister is sure to be out. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son.
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