"He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her heart has been twisted sorely. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A.
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