Wild," edged in Quilt. Wood,—the person whom you may remember adopted him,—at Dollis Hill, near Willesden; and it's a singular but fortunate circumstance, so far as we are concerned, that Mrs. ” “No. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am.
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