"You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. “Not at all. Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame. ‘But you know. I want to be a person by myself, and to pull my own strings. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care.
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