The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. See how he gets on, father," he added, appealing to Wood: "the box seems to grow under his hands. Wood. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid.
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