” “And the man stands as the master at the mouth of the den. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. I don’t know. My boys buy them with beads or bolts of calico of mine. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. "Let me see," replied Wood; "exactly twelve years ago last November. Something tells me I am rushing on greater danger. I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart.
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