" "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. "You're mistaken, Winny. ‘What’s to do?’ ‘Valade is here. He wasn't satisfied with an assured income from the paper-mills your grandfather left us. Pottiswick had mentioned muttering. ’ ‘Your groom? What for?’ ‘Get him to wait outside. Oh, you must believe me. Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your arm.
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