Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. Not like my father. “Annabel, I begin to see why you are here. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. In the discussion there was the oddest mixture of things that were personal and petty with an idealist devotion that was fine beyond dispute. He now tells her that she is free, no longer a slave. . She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself.
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