Another picture slid across her vision. "If this document is correct," continued Wood, "and I am persuaded it is so,— you are as unfortunate as wicked. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in.
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