“Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. . Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. " Jack would not hazard a glance at Winifred; but, quitting the church, got into an adjoining meadow, and watched the party slowly ascending the road leading to Dollis Hill. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. " "Faithful fellow!" murmured Jack.
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