Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. ” She scoffed. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. . ‘How fascinating. To-night all London believes that he was your husband. I can decide for myself. In this hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him. It was a different world. The room in which he was detained—that lately occupied by the Mohocks, who, it appeared, had been allowed to depart,—was calculated to inspire additional apprehension and disgust. " "Go, Mr.
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