"The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. I can't bear it. "Let me go," cried Winifred. Sheppard!" sighed Winifred, as she contemplated the beautiful wreck before her,—"Poor Mrs. Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction.
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