Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. It was enough. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek.
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