Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. Norris, wringing her hands and wepping, the unfortunate lady was placed upon a couch. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. ‘I told you I could handle her. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. ‘Cousin? But I am a fool. All alone; and nobody cared whether he lived or died.
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