The man was mad to marry me. It’s not fair to you. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. " Mr.
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