Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. Immediately he grasped the fact that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive. ’ She counted off on her fingers. She spoke slowly. After that, we'll go our several ways.
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