She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. Wood's at Dollis Hill, wholly unsuspicious of any designs against him, and, in fact, entirely ignorant of your being acquainted with his return, or even of his existence. “Very likely,” he answered. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping.
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