Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat.
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