Then he sensed the trap. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. In any place her beauty would have been an uncommon thing. This individual apparently met with some impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood stood. My only love is for my poor lost son. Now, do what you please.
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