“Queer letters he writes,” she said. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. There was a recurrence of fever, but nothing alarming. ‘Do you think I do not know? If this pig has not done so, there would be no need for me to do it. “Tell me his name,” he said, “and I promise that he shall never trouble you.
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