” “I thought I explained—” “I don’t think you can have heard me,” said her father; “I have told you to come home. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. He was absolutely unable to focus his ideas. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. The one fault, indeed, of this school of fiction for him was that it had rather a light way with parental rights. It opened and a nun’s head popped out.
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