A fortnight passed, then a month. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. "But I dread the effect your departure may have upon your poor mother. "Come, let's be off. "Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments, "what say you?—silence gives consent, eh?" Mrs.
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