"What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. "You mistake,—you are mine. See what a horrible rascal you've let loose upon the world!" "I'm sure, mother," rejoined Winifred, "if any one was likely to feel resentment, I was; for no one could be more frightened.
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