"And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. But it was clear she was in no mood for Teddys. “What are you doing?” He cried. “They seem to come to you as naturally as disappointment—to other people.
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