Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. " "Alas!" cried Mrs. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. " "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend.
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