Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. Sheppard, and neither deserve nor desire your thanks. He would have sent the Virgin Mary to heal the baby. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself.
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