Another instance was that of Toby Tanner—" "No more of this," interrupted Trenchard; "where is the boy?" "Not far hence," replied Wild. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. Why did he imagine she was making this journey to England? She feigned interest. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. ” Mrs.
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