She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. " "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. \"Carry your books for you?\" He asked. It wasn’t. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood. G. "How goes it?" he began, heartily. But Sheppard was not to be silenced.
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