Wood fared still worse. The land about these walls is a common graveyard. You don’t deserve it, but he does. I loathe this room. Good night. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. That Mr.
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