Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. ’ ‘I have found Mary Remenham’s daughter,’ he repeated. She felt that she was not alone. This gloom was impossible. ‘I’ll make you an offer. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. The three of them laughed joyously.
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