Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. Their doors stood open, and placards with big letters indicated the section assigned to each. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection.
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