Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. She cried out with the pain of it. "We must change the subject," remarked Thornhill, pausing in his task; "this will never do.
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