ToC The noise of this disturbance did not fail to reach the interior of the prison. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. I do not love you. The cry was echoed by twenty different voices. I shan't let you off a farthing. It looked as if it had taken its world for granted and prospered on that assumption—a world in which children were trained to obey their elders and the wills of women over-ruled as a matter of course. She said as much to him. "Let me see him. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood.
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