” Chapter XIV “THIS IS MY WIFE” Anna, notwithstanding her momentary fright in the middle of the day, was in high spirits. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. "I never had a pet. " "And so Sir Rowland murdered his friend," remarked Wood.
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