So he marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable discovery. “Mr. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. I've come to take you back home. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. The lad hesitated. Katy’s face was vapid and undistinguishable from a crowd, but pretty in an abstract sense, like the face of a baby doll.
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