CHAPTER XXVIII. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. " "Readily. ’ To her astonishment, Gosse’s servile attitude vanished abruptly. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. He will not come. She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. ” He recovered himself. "'Faith, an' you may say that," returned a watchman, who was wiping a ruddy stream from his brow; "they've broken the paice, and our pates into the bargain.
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