She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood.
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