"And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Why hadn't he admitted that he recognized the photograph? What instinct had impelled him swiftly to assume his Oriental mask? "Why?" asked O'Higgins.
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