Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian, Wild, though it brought her to the brink of the grave, should have restored her to reason! Ah! she stirs. A girl of fifteen or sixteen gave her a handbill that she regarded as a tract until she saw “Votes for Women” at the top. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. " He departed, musing.
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