“I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise. He then tried the door of Mr. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame.
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