‘One thing at a time, missie. I keep on thinking of you. I mean my cut-offs and boots. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. “I have given it up,” she answered. At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who, nearly smothered by the weight imposed upon him, only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood altered the position of the bundle.
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