The Ragged Edge. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. ” She watched his face as he traced his way through these speculative thickets. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. I’ve been waiting all my life to get out of this town. That's the way it goes. "You are my prisoner, Jack. Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard.
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