Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. "I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily. . " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. The highest form of knowledge was magic: the priesthood. E.
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