And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. You have never known what it is to want food, raiment, shelter. Then I saw Mrs. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling.
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