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"Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. She drank it obediently. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. . Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. That is easy. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly.
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