The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. How old are you?” She asked. Gerald’s task was to stop him from doing so. She screamed involuntarily—she had never in her life screamed before—and then she began to wriggle and fight like a frightened animal against the men who were holding her. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. There's nothing so sad in this world as an old fool," she added.
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