I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. “You hear him?” he remarked, looking impressively around. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue.
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