"Well, how goes it?" he asked. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. . Why would your mother be so impatient?” Lucy speculated. "The intelligence seems new to you.
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